


Crepuscule

by namupokemanchan



Category: Supernatural, The Umbrella Academy (Comics), Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alive Reginald Hargreeves, Alternate Universe - Twilight Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Human/Vampire Relationship, Protective Dean Winchester, Reginald Hargreeves doing his best, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Female Sam Winchester, Vampire Dean Winchester, Vampire Sam Winchester, in this universe we respect POC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29360931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namupokemanchan/pseuds/namupokemanchan
Summary: tua and supernatural characters in a twilight AU
Relationships: Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Number Five | The Boy & Reginald Hargreeves, Number Five|The Boy/Dean Winchester, Sissy Cooper/Vanya Hargreeves, The Hargreeves Family, the cullen family - Relationship
Kudos: 3





	1. Forks

I patted the sandy dirt around the cactus and got to my feet, holding the little clay pot. Leaving Arizona for the American northwest didn't mean I couldn't take part of it with me. 

A few girls from my school drove up in a red convertible. One of them waved. "Bye Five! Good luck at your new school!"

I raised my hand in an awkward goodbye. "Coraline."

The traffic light turned green and they drove off again, apparently not hearing me. I lowered my hand and walked back to Grace and Deezer's station wagon, holding my cactus in one hand. 

Grace approached me, looking flustered with her blonde hair coming out of her ponytail. She shoved her cell phone at me. "It's not working, baby."

I took the phone. "It's on hold, mom."

She glanced at me. "It is?"

I held out the phone to her. "Look. You called Mexico too."

Grace laughed and pushed my shoulders. "I'll figure it out. You need to be able to reach me and Deezer on the road." She smiled. "I love saying that- on the road."

I laughed too. "Hot stuff, mom."

Deezer exited the house, carrying my three suitcases with ease. "If you call crappy motels, backwater towns and ballpark hot dogs romantic." 

He put his Phoenix Desert Dogs baseball hat on Grace’s head with a kiss. Deezer headed to the old station wagon to load the luggage, while Rene slipped her arm through mine, clinging as we walked to the car.

"Now, you know if you change your mind, I’ll race back here from wherever the game is," she said, trying to sound casual but I knew what a sacrifice that would be for her. 

I forced a smile. "I won't change my mind, mom."

"Are you sure? You've always hated Forks."

"It's not about Forks, it's about dad. I mean two weeks a year, we barely know each other." I noticed Grace's still worried look and sighed. "Mom, I want to go. I'll be fine."

She hugged me and my smile faded before I climbed into the backseat. I wasn't so sure that I'd be fine as I put in my earbuds and slouched against the window.

* * *

"It's good to see you, Cor," Reginald said, taking my arm as I stumbled off the plane. "You've changed a lot, huh?"

He pulled me into an awkward one-armed hug. "You doing alright?"

"It's good to see you too, dad. And yeah, I'm cool." I didn't call him Reginald to his face. 

After he loaded my bags into the trunk we were off on a nearly silent drive to Forks. 

I stared out the passenger side window of my father's police cruiser, staring out at the endless green forest and cover of dark grey clouds. Everything in Forks was completely different than Arizona. The trees, the wildlife, the weather, the people… 

I glanced over at Reginald. We had spent almost the entire drive from the airport in uncomfortable silence. 

"Your hair's longer," he commented, stopping at the red light. 

I looked away to watch a semi-truck drive in front of us. "Yeah. I thought it looked more girly or whatever." My hair wasn’t even that long, it barely hit my shoulders.

"It's nice."

I nodded, glancing down at my cactus. 

"How's your mom?" He asked after a few seconds. 

"Good," I said simply and we fell back into silence. 

We drove past a sign that said "The City of Forks Welcomes You - Pop. 3246." I scowled at it and continued staring out the window. Nearly every storefront was wooden and old fashioned looking, even the police station across from city hall. I had almost forgotten how practically medieval this town was. 

We spent the rest of the drive in silence, finally pulling up at the old-fashioned two-story house that had been home to me two weeks a year when I was a kid. The same fishing boat and gear in the garage, the same woodshed full of chopped wood, the same quiet simplicity. 

I followed Reginald into the house, still carrying my cactus as he carried two of my bags and looked around the kitchen and living room. The only new thing in the house was a flat-screen TV next to more pictures of fishing and several handmade cards addressed to "daddy" next to childhood photos of me. I cringed at a photo of me in a boy scouts uniform with a crew cut. 

Reginald set my bags down on the floor and I set the one I was holding on top. "I put Grandpa's old desk in your room and I cleared some of the shelves in the bathroom."

I sighed. "Right, one bathroom…" I really wasn’t looking forward to that. Did men even put the seat down if they lived alone?

We both reached for my bags at the same time. "I'll put these in your room-"

"I can get-"

Our heads bumped together so I backed off and let Reginald carry my bags, following him up the stairs and to the bedroom I used to have. It looked exactly like it had when I was a kid, except with grandpa's desk in the corner. The antique wood furniture had been here since I was born, probably even longer and the only change throughout the years was trading a crib for a bed and the things embroidered with my deadname for one's with Coraline instead. 

I set my cactus on the window sill. The same except for a cactus and Grandpa's desk. And one very awkward girl. 

“That’s a pretty good work lamp,” He said, nodding at the lamp on the desk as he set my bags down on the bed. “The sales lady picked out the bedding. Do you like purple?”

I preferred more neutral blanket colours and dusty pink was my all-time favourite colour but I nodded. “Purple’s cool. Thanks.”

“Cool.” Reginald left the room.

That was my favourite thing about him; he didn’t hover. If I was unpacking with my mom, she would be all over, trying to organize my socks and commenting on how my clothes were so adult now that I was growing into a young woman. I started unpacking my bags, pulling out my CD players and a few albums. Rubbing hard at my eyes, I sat down on the bed, fighting back tears. I didn't want to cry but I did want to a little bit. I wasn't in the mood to go on a real crying sulk. I would save that for after school today when I would have to think about what an embarrassment it would be to be the new girl in the middle of a semester. 

Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and filly-seven, now fifty-eight students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior class alone back home. All of the kids here had grown up together- their grandparents had been toddlers together.

I would be the new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak. 

Maybe if I looked like a girl from Phoenix should (or at least like a girl at all), I could work this to my advantage. But physically, I'd never fit in anywhere. I should be tan, sporty, blonde and a volleyball player or a cheerleader, perhaps all the things that go with living in the valley of the sun. Instead, I was ivory-skinned despite the constant sunshine and even though I had the classic blue eyes, they were the wrong kind of blue- so dark they looked almost black. I had always been a bit on the chubby side but since I had started estrogen, I had gained enough weight that I stopped wearing shorts. My hand-eye coordination was enough for video games and that one time Reginald took me to a shooting range but I had never been good at the sports girls were supposed to be. No swim team or cheer or gymnastics, just shooting cans off the fence so I could “fight off the boys” as Reginald had said.

There was a honk from the driveway and I got to my feet, going to the street-facing window to look outside. A rusty-looking 1950s Chevrolet truck had pulled up and I perked up before running down the stairs and opening the front door. I approached the truck to see my father and a Native boy with long dark hair helping the man from the fishing trip photos into a wheelchair. 

Reginald looked up at me. "Coral, you remember Billy Black."

I nodded and shook his head, smiling politely. “Yeah. You look good.”

“Well, I’m still dancing. Look at you, though.” Billy smiled at me. "You’re your father’s daughter for sure.”

I smiled my first true, genuine smile since coming to Forks. I’m still not completely used to being treated like a girl. 

Billy continued. “Glad you're finally here. Reggie hasn't shut up about it since you said you were coming."

"Keep exaggerating and I'll wheel you down that hill.”

“Right after I ram you in the ankles,” Billy laughed, taking several rolls at Reginald, who dodged. 

“You want to go?” He asked, sidestepping around Billy. 

The boy shook his head at their two fathers as he shyly approached me. “I’m Jacob. We made mud pies together when we were little kids.

“Yeah... I think I remember…” I smiled awkwardly, looking back at our dads. “Are they always like this?”

“It’s getting worse with old age,” Jacob said and we both laughed. 

Reginald patted the hood of the truck. “So what do you think of your homecoming gift?”

I stared at him. “No way. The truck is for me?”

“Just bought it off Billy, here,” He said, 

Jacob beamed. "I rebuilt the engine and-"

"Come on!" I ran my hands over the side of the burnt orange truck. "Oh my gosh!" I beamed back at Reginald and Billy. "This is perfect, are you shitting me?"

I opened the Chevy's door and climbed into the front seat excitedly. The truck was clean and looked as new as it could but still smelled like tobacco, gasoline and peppermint. 

Jacob climbed into the passenger's seat and handed me the keys. "Okay, so you gotta double pump the clutch when you shift, but other than that you should be good."

"Maybe I can give you a ride to school." I took the keys and put them in the ignition, starting the engine after a few seconds. 

"I go to school on the reservation," Jacob explained, hands in his pockets. 

I frowned slightly. "Too bad. Would’ve been nice to know at least one person."

* * *

As I pulled my Chevy into the Forks High School parking lot, the engine made a loud noise as it backfired. A few kids standing by their cars next to me laughed and I pulled my hood up, trying to hide my face. Despite my engine, my truck didn't stand out among the other cars. They were all about old like mine and the nicest looking one was another Chevy, a black Impala from the fifties or sixties. I didn't know much about cars. 

I hunched my shoulders and took a shaky breath, clenching my fists. This was fine, I could do this. 

I finally exhaled and pushed open the truck door and climbed out, clinging to my backpack. I almost instantly slipped off the Chevy's step and landed in a muddy puddle, splattering my rubber boots. 

"Nice ride," a boy with a shaved afro called to me, leaning against a van and the kids standing around him laughed. 

I quickly ducked away and took the school map out of my coat pocket, partially hiding my face behind it. The school layout made no sense to me and I didn't want to end up in the wrong class. 

I pushed my earbuds in, trying to avoid the groups of teenagers but everyone was staring openly at me. A few brave kids said hi and I turned up my music louder. AC DC would protect me. 

An Asian boy in a black dress shirt bounced over to me. "Hey, Five Hargreeves, the new kid, right? I'm Ben, the eyes and ears of this place. Anything you need? Lunch date, shoulder to cry on, tour guide?" He said this all very fast. 

I laughed awkwardly and pushed my hood down. "Uh, I'm more of the suffer in silence type." I'd prefer to suffer with my friends but I had never been good at making friends and even worse at keeping them. 

Ben nodded and bounced over to my other side. "Oooh, that's good. I'll add that to your feature, homeboy. You're news, front page."

Shaking my head, my cheeks flushed. "I uh, no- I'm just-" I stumbled over my words uncomfortably and rubbed at the back of my neck with my free hand. "Really, you don't need to do that."

Ben held up his hands. "Woah, chillax. No feature."

"Thanks." Remembering what he had said before, I pulled out my map. "You mentioned being a tour guide?"

After a short conversation with Ben, he showed me where trigonometry was and I stepped into the classroom once I finally found my way. The class had already started and nearly every kid stared at me when I closed the door behind me. 

Mr. Varner looked up from the chalkboard, a weird change from the whiteboards and computers in Phoenix. Were all small towns less technologically advanced? I would have hated Mr. Varner just for teaching this godforsaken subject but after taking my hall pass, he had me introduce myself at the front of the class. 

"My name's Coraline, I'm from Phoenix Arizona," I started, my voice cracking slightly. 

Mr. Varner flipped through his attendance sheet. "You're listed as Five Hargreeves," he said and I hated him even more. He definitely fit the unprogressive small-town stereotype. 

After a few hellish minutes, I slouched over to the seat and sunk into the seat, trying to ignore the stares as I took out my textbook. I hated trigonometry but I hated attention more. The girl next to me had been staring at me for a while before I raised my hand in an uncomfortable hello. "Hi."

"Hi, I'm Allison." She smiled brightly, tucking her curly purple hair behind her ear. "Why is your name different on the roll?"

My stomach dropped and I flipped through the textbook, stopping at the page Mr. Varner had written on the blackboard. "I used to be in witness protection."

"Really?" Allison asked interestedly, shifting her chair so she could lean towards me. 

Apparently, rain and humour didn't go together. "No, I'm a spy. Five was the name I went by when I was undercover." 

She finally laughed. "Oh, you're joking."

After a few classes, I started recognizing people. Allison was in my trig and Spanish classes, Ben sat next to me in English and there was one tiny pixie looking girl in the back of almost all of my classes. A few students said hi to me and a couple brave ones asked me about my name. I lied to them as I had to Allison, making up weirder reasons each time. By lunchtime, half the people I had met thought every kid in the Hagreeves family was given a number for a name before they had it changed as teenagers. 

In the cafeteria, I spotted Ben and Allison sitting at a table and they both waved to me. I sat down between them, setting my tray on the table and trying to ignore the stares from the other people sitting with us. A blond boy from Spanish plopped down between me and Allison, slinging his arm over my shoulder. I stiffened slightly, looking down at my tray.

Ben looked up at him. “Mike, have you met my homegirl Coraline?”

“Your homegirl?” Mike asked.

The boy who commented on my truck this morning pressed a kiss to my cheek. “My homegirl,” he said before pulling Mike’s chair out from under him and running across the cafeteria.

As Mike chased after him, Allison scooched her chair over to me. “It’s first grade all over again,

and you’re the shiny new toy.”

I rubbed hard at my cheek. Suddenly, a flashbulb blinded and I looked up to see an Asian girl holding a chunky camera.

She smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, needed a candid for the feature-”

“Feature’s dead, Angela. Don’t bring it up again,” Ben huffed before turning back to me. “I got your back, baby.”

Angela deflated slightly as she sat down next to Allison. “I guess we’ll run another editorial on teen drinking.”

I chewed on a carrot thoughtfully. “There’s always queer rights and uh,” I glanced at a group of rowdy boys across the cafeteria. “Speedo padding on the swim team?”

Angela perked up as quickly as she had slumped and eagerly looked over at the table. “Wait, that’s actually a good one.”

She and Allison put their heads together and started gossiping animatedly as I continued looking around the cafeteria. As much as I hated attention, I did like people watching, in a not creepy way. The exit door of the cafeteria pushed open and four of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen walked into the room. 

Two girls and two boys, all stunningly, inhumanely beautiful and much paler than even I was. The boys were both ridiculously tall, the blond one at least six and a half feet and built like a tank and holding hands with the other boy, lanky and a few inches shorter with brown hair that was long for a boy. Despite his non-conventionally attractive body, he was surprisingly gorgeous with piercing eyes and a softly sweet kind of air to him. The girls walked in after them, one of them practically floating. She was at least two feet shorter than the boys with spiky black hair and heavy black eyeliner that stood out against her pale skin. The other girl, a fairly tall girl with the body of a model and wavy blonde hair held the black-haired girl’s arm, practically dragging her to a cafeteria table. 

I leaned over to Allison and Angela. “Who are they?”

Angela looked over at the table of gorgeous people. “Oh, those are the Cullens.”

Allison leaned in, tuning into gossip mode. “Dr. and Mrs. Cullen’s foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska two years ago.”

“They kind of keep to themselves,” Angela said and Allison nodded enthusiastically. 

“Because they’re all together. Like,  _ together  _ together. The blond boy, that’s Luther and he’s with the girl with brown hair, Sam. They’re like a thing! I’m not even sure that’s legal.”

Angela poked her arm. “Allie, they’re not really related.”

Allison poked her back. “But they  _ live  _ together! It’s weird. And that little dark-haired girl, Vanya, she’s with Sissy, the blonde girl who looks like she’s in pain. Doctor Cullen’s like this dad/matchmaker.”

Angela smiled to herself. “Maybe he’ll adopt me.”

I laughed and kept looking at them only looking up when the next Cullen walked in. He was more boyish-looking than the others, with a crooked smile, a leather jacket and short brown hair. My breath caught in my throat and I turned back to Allison. “Who’s he?”


	2. Bio Chemical Romance

Allison and Angela both looked over at the boy before sharing a look. “That’s Dean Winchester,” Allison said as if it was obvious. "He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently, none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he'd turned her down.

Angela smiled slightly. “What if he’s gay, Allie? He could be gay.”

I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him again. His face was turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were smiling, too.

After a few more minutes, the five of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful, except for Luther who stumbled slightly and had to be grabbed by Sam. The Cullens would have been cute if they weren’t so unnerving. 

I sat at the table with Allison and her friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone. I was anxious not to be late for class on my first day. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me that her name was Angela, had Bio with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence. She was shy, I was still thinking about the Cullens.

When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table next to a girl with lopped black bangs. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to a window covered by ivy and in front of a taxidermied owl, I recognized Dean Winchester by his leather jacket, sitting next to that single open seat. 

I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him out of the corner of my eye. As Mr. Molina signed my slip, the fan turned towards me, blowing my hair in my face and I saw Dean stiffened in his seat. 

“Welcome, Mr. Hargreeves. Take a seat by Mr. Winchester and follow along as best you can till you get caught up.” Mr. Molina said.

“Miss. Hargreeves,” I mumbled, taking my slip back.

“I’m sorry?”

I raised my voice. “It’s Miss and my name’s Coraline.”

“Happy to have you, Miss Coraline.” Mr. Molina added a note to his attendance and nodded before turning back to the whiteboard. Finally some modern technology.

The fan blew through my hair again and Dean stared at me, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face. The look on his face was something I could only describe as vicious anger but it didn’t make sense. I hadn’t done anything except… except very quietly come out as trans. I looked away hurriedly, moving my hair off my face and stumbling on my way to the seat. The girl sitting behind me giggled and I blushed hard.

As I sat down, Dean moved his chair away from me until he was pressed against the wall, still glaring at me with his deep black eyes. He stared at me like he was trying to read something written very small on my face and then looked away, covering his mouth and nose with his hand.

“Today we’ll be observing the behaviour of planaria, a.k.a flatworms,” Mr. Molina said animatedly, distributing two Petri dishes per table. “We’re going to cut them in half, then watch them regenerate into two separate worms…”

He continued talking but I tuned him out, trying to subtly sniff the air. I couldn’t smell anything so I sniffed my hair next. Nothing. Was he allergic to my laundry detergent or something?

Mr. Molina set two petri dishes in front of Dean and he pushed one towards me like he was afraid of catching something. 

I scowled as I took my flatworm. Dean could fuck right off if that's how he was going to be. I didn't care if he had the best jawline I'd ever seen. 

"Yes, folks, zombie worms! They 

just won’t die." Mr. Molina's excitement was almost annoying. 

Dean's hands were clenched and shaking under the table. His eyes were narrowed as he stared down at his flatworm like he wanted to hurt it. I mean, that was the point of the lab but he looked freaky. Like the flatworm had killed his mom or something. 

What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behavior? I felt a little bad for judging Allison on her bitterness towards him if this was how he normally acted. 

I glanced back at Dean. He wasn't moving, not even his chest rising and falling. Was he holding his breath? 

I knocked on his side of the table. "Are you okay?"

He gave me a withering look and got to his feet just as the bell rang. Dean was taller than I imagined, even as he slouched out of the room. 

I scowled as I shoved my books into my bag. He was so mean and for no reason. My anger was hooked up to my tear ducts and I nearly always started crying when I was seriously pissed. And dammit, I was seriously pissed. Rubbing hard at my eyes, I left the room for my next class- gym. 

I bumped into the blond white boy from lunch. Up close he was much cuter and had a baby face. "Coraline Hargreeves?"

I raised my hand in greeting. "Your homegirl."

"I'm Mike," he said, more bubbly than Eric but quieter. 

"Hi, Mike." 

"Do you need any help finding your next class?" He also had the overly helpful energy of Eric. 

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it." If it was gender segregated, I'd drive my truck off the nearest bridge. 

"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small. 

We walked to class together; he was a chatterer — he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he was ten, so he knew how I felt 

about the sun. It turned out he was in my Spanish class also. He was the nicest person I'd met today. 

But as we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Dean Winchester with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."

My stomach dropped. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that wasn't Dean Winchester's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb. "Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?" I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets. 

"Yeah," he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something." 

"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to him." 

"He's a weird guy." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you." 

"I guess he is pretty weird." I smiled at him awkwardly as I followed him into the boy's change room. 

Mike gave me a weird look. "The girls' change room is on the other side of the gym."

I froze and hunched in on myself. "I uh, yeah. Oops." I quickly left the room, smoothing my shirt and blushing hard. I hated when people misgendered me but I almost hated it more when I misgendered myself. 

The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress down for today's class. Thank God. At home, only two years of P.E. were required. 

Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. This place was literally my personal hell on Earth. Awful men, shitty teachers and god awful classes. There was literally no benefit to putting sweaty teenagers together and making them workout. 

Allison was very, very into volleyball. She was excellent at motivating players and had an amazing spike. "Block it, Chloe! Yeah! Good attack!"

A volleyball flew at my face and I smacked it away, more on reflex than anything. The ball was launched off the court and hit Mike in the back of the head. 

He winced and rubbed at his head as I ran towards him. "Ow!"

"Sorry!" I cringed, folding my arms over my stomach awkwardly. "I um, I told them not to let me play."

"'Tis but a flesh wound," Mike joked as the final bell rang at last. 

I laughed too and Allison bounced toward us. "She's got a great spike, doesn't she?"

My cheeks turned pink and I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Aren't they supposed to be really good at sports in Florida?" Mike asked. 

"Yeah, I guess that's why they kicked me out."

Mike and Allison both laughed and I hunched in on myself, rubbing my toe into the gym floor. 

I trudged slowly to the office to return my paperwork but when I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out. 

Dean Winchester stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized that leather jacket. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free. 

He was arguing with her in a low voice. "…Got to be something in sixth hour. Chemistry? Physics?"

I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room, right? The look on his face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that anyone could hate me so thoroughly without knowing me. 

The administrative assistant frowned. "No, every class is full. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay in biology. I’m so sorry."

Dean noticed me and glared. I paled and hunched away from him, hands shaking slightly. He grabbed his bag off the desk. "I'll just- I'll just have to endure it."

I felt fear, genuine heart wrenching fear that made my hair stand on end that replaced my anger. My arm hair stood on end and I pulled my sleeves down, watching Dean out of the corner of my eye as he left the room. 

After a few seconds, I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip. 

"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked maternally, impaling my slip on the receipt spike after making a note on the corner. 

"Fine," I lied, my voice weak. She didn't look convinced.

I saw Dean walk out of the building and get into the 1967 Chevy Impala. Of course he had the coolest car in the parking lot. 

The stares from the other people were worse than anything and I scowled hard, pulling my raincoat's hood up. 

"Jerk," I muttered, slamming my truck's door shut. My face was getting puffy from the stress and tears and bullshit of the day and my truck was almost cozy. It seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green hole. I should probably name my truck, if it was my home now. My mom used to name the houses we lived in together. 

I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly. My hands were shaking and I wasn't sure if it was from anger or cold. I hated everyone here and everything around me. Dean Winchester was a creep or at least an asshole with a far too high opinion of himself. Soon it was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. 

I headed back to Reginald's house, fighting tears the whole way there. I didn't want to be there but there was no other place for me to go. My memory of this town was repressed at best and I couldn't name a shop or restaurant here if my life depended on it. Stupid fucking Forks. 


	3. Not in Phoenix Anymore

Noticing my bad mood, Reginald drove me to a quaint little diner in silence but he kept glancing at me. I had redone my makeup after I cried it off but I still looked forlorn and bedraggled. 

Several loggers at the counter offered me welcoming smiles as we entered the restaurant and I withdrew in on myself, hunching back into my seat at the attention. Reginald is oblivious to my discomfort. 

The waitress, Cora, set a sirloin steak in front of my father. “Can’t get over how grown-up you are. And so handsome.”

I smiled uncomfortably and glanced at my dad who keeps his eyes on his steak. A bearded, hippy logger appeared behind Cora, leaning over her shoulder towards me. “Hey, Five. 'Member me, honey? I was Santa for one year.”

I glanced at my dad, hoping for his help. 

“Yeah, Waylon, Coraline hasn’t had a Christmas here since she was four,” Reginald said. 

"I bet I made an impression though," Waylon asked, winking at me. 

"Always do."

"Butt crack Santa," Cora said and I laughed with her. She patted the logger's shoulder. "Alright, let the girl eat her garden burger, Waylon." Smiling at me she said, "When you're done, I'll bring your favourite- berry cobbler, remember? Your dad still has it."

Cora smiled at Reginald. "Every Thursday."

I didn't remember and the idea of eating dessert made my stomach clench but I nodded. "That'd be great, thank you."

After Cora and Waylon left, Reginald and I both grabbed for the ketchup at the same time. He handed it to me just as a family next to us laughed happily. I hadn't laughed genuinely since coming to Forks. 

After a bite of steak, Reginald looked up at me. "So, are you a vegetarian now or…? Is that a Phoenix thing?"

I dragged one of my fries through the ketchup. "Uh, no, I'm a pescatarian. I hate fish."

He gave me a strange look. "Why would you eat fish then?"

Mouthful of fries, I dabbed ketchup off my cheek. "I like the taste, not the concept of fish. Fish suck."

Reginald nodded like he understood. "Huh. Okay."

We sat there eating in silence for a few minutes before I turned back to him. "Do you eat here every day?"

He shrugged. "Beats washing dishes."

I snatched one of Reginald's steal fries and took a bite. My fries were better. "I can cook. I did all the cooking in Phoenix too. Y'know, mom's not good in the kitchen."

My father laughed and took one of my fries in return. "I remember…"

We both laughed awkwardly and I think we were both remembering the time Grace set soup on fire. I'm still not entirely sure how she did that. 

"Did you have a good day at school? Meet anyone?" Reginald asked, wiping steak sauce off his moustache. 

"A few people… do you know the Cullen family?"

He looked up. "Dr. Cullen's family. Sure. Dr. Cullen is a great man."

"Yeah, uh…" I hesitated, wondering how much to say, "the kids are… a little different."

"I figured you would have been friends with them."

I cocked my head to the side. "What do you mean?"

He looked awkward. "I don't know, I just… the tall girl, Sam Winchester, she's like you so I just…"

I laughed lightly and took another bite of my burger. "You can say trans, Dad, it's not a bad word." Wait. Winchester? Sam Winchester?

"Oh okay." Reginald usually tried to be overly nice to me to make sure I'd like him. 

"Sam Winchester, is she related to uh, Dean?"

"Oh, yeah. They're brother and sister. Decided to keep their family name I guess."

So Dean wasn't transphobic, he was just me-phobic. I don't know if that made me feel better or worse. 

"Are people talking about the family again?" Reginald asked. 

I shrugged and went back to my burger. "I guess a few people. They don't fit in very well at school."

Reginald surprised me by looking angry.

"People in this town," he muttered. "Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, making ten times the salary he gets here," he continued, getting louder "We're lucky to have him- lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community, and all of those kids are well-behaved and polite. I had my doubts when they first moved in with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them, but they're all very mature. I haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for the children of some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should- camping trips every other weekend. Just because they're newcomers, people have to talk."

It was the longest speech I'd ever heard Reginald make. He must feel strongly about whatever people were saying.

"They seemed nice enough to me." They didn't, really but I didn't want to piss him off. Maybe they were nice and I just got freaked out by Dean. You know, because he was a freak. 

I just wanted to stress eat in private. Maybe try the cobbler Cora had set down in front of me. Maybe take it home with me and I eat it alone in my new room. 

We went back to our food in silence. 

* * *

I snuggled up in my old bed, wrapping my new purple blanket around my shoulders as I looked out at the fog. 

"If spring training goes well, we could be living in Florida permanently," Grace said through the phone. 

"Please insert 25 cents to continue," a robotic voice droned. 

"Mom, where’s your cell?" I asked, laughing lightly. 

"Ok, I didn’t lose my power cord," my mom protested. "It ran away. Screaming. I literally repel technology now."

"Now, tell me more about your school, baby. What are the kids like? Are there any cute guys? Are they being nice to you?"

I rolled my eyes. "There's… I mean, there aren’t really any cute guys. And yes, they're very welcoming." My mind went to Dean. Most of them were welcoming at least. 

My mom made a sympathetic sound. "Oh no. Tell me all about it."

I flopped against the pillows. "I don't know, mom. They're just different people here, I guess."

"You wanna come back? I can be there in two days."

I scowled and rolled over, propping my head upon my hand. "No mom, I don't. I like it here, I just-" I pushed my blanket off and sat up, hunching over. "I gotta go, mom, okay? I got homework."

"Okay, honey," Grace sighed. 

I hung up the phone. For some god-awful reason, Reginald didn't get rid of my Disney landline. It was pastel pink, heart-shaped and covered in princesses. I liked pink but Christ, this was childish. 

After staring at the ceiling for more minutes, I got to my feet. I should probably start on tomorrow's dinner.

* * *

The next day was better… and worse. 

It was better because it wasn't raining yet, though the clouds were dense and opaque. It was a bit easier because I knew what to expect from my day. Mike came to sit by me in Spanish, and walked me to my next class, with Ben glaring at him all the while; that was deeply, deeply annoying. 

People didn't look at me quite as much as they had yesterday which I was grateful for. I sat with a big group at lunch that included Mike, Ben, Allison and several other people whose names and faces I chose not to remember. 

It was worse because I was tired; I was almost always tired but I wasn't used to the silence in the house. My old street had fire trucks and police cars driving through nearly every hour and Reginald's was almost the only squad car here. It was worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when my hand wasn't raised and I had the wrong answer. It was worse because I had to play volleyball, and the one time I didn't cringe out of the way of the ball, I hit my teammate in the head with it. She was a bitch and she deserved it but she gave me a murderous look. It was worse because I had to change for gym and I couldn't do it in the handicap stall of the bathroom like I usually did. 

And it was worse because Dean Winchester wasn't in school at all. 

I wasn't looking forward to biology because of his bizarre glares but him not being there was almost worse. I had been planning on confronting him but I know I wouldn't have. Being a coward was my thing and I hated drawing attention to myself but I had planned out how I'd do it over the night. 

Plus Dean would definitely beat me if it got physical. I had seen the muscles in his shoulders when he had adjusted his leather jacket and holy fucking shit. 

I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, Dean still hadn't shown up. Mike, who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side to class. I held my breath at the door, but Dean Winchester wasn't there, either. 

I exhaled and went to my seat. Mike followed, prattling on about an upcoming trip to some beach. He lingered by my desk till the bell rang. Then he smiled at me wistfully and went to sit by a girl with blunt bangs. It looked like I was going to have to do something about Mike, and it wouldn't be easy. 

I liked boys and girls but definitely not Mike. He was sweet, I guess but I wasn't interested in him at all. Usually, I loved Golden Retrievers but Mike could be downright annoying. 

Maybe I should just come out to Mike and hoped he didn't lose his shit. I'd like to be friends with him, I suppose. He was a nice kid but that's it. 

At least I had my desk to myself today. Our dissection unit was getting more interesting and I really didn't need to have any distractions, in the form of a scary and strangely attractive boy. 

The next day Dean wasn't in class again. It had to be for some other reason. I couldn't imagine something I did could affect someone so strongly, especially someone I didn't know. 

I went to the bathroom between bio and gym. Here I could avoid at least 50 percent of the stares I was still getting. After digging my lipgloss out of my bag, I looked up in the mirror, startled to see Sam and Vanya standing behind them. 

The tiny dark-haired girl looked genuinely interested but there was annoyance in Sam's eyes. She was insanely tall for a girl, my head not even reaching her collarbones. 

I fell over in gym class and by the time I was in my truck, I could feel a bruise forming on my thigh. 

The next day I hung after school with Angela, Allison, Ben, Mike and the rest of their friends. I was quickly becoming part of their circle. It was nice to have people to stand near awkwardly as I looked for Dean Winchester. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Sam and Vanya getting into a bright red BMW. Sissy and Luther were already in the backseat. 

God, how tall was that guy? Sissy looked like a doll next to him. 

The next morning it was raining and I scowled out the window. I was quickly getting bored of this weather. The cold was nice for the layers and what not but I hated the rain. 

I wrapped my coat extra tight around myself as I walked outside, pulling my hood up over my pigtails. Reginald pulled up in my truck and climbed out, closing the door behind him. 

"I can drive myself to school, dad," I said, walking down the stairs and wiping out on a puddle almost instantly. 

"You alright, Cor?" He asked, grabbing my hands and lifting me back up. 

I laughed awkwardly. "Yeah. Ice doesn't help the uncoordinated."

"Yep. That's why I got you new tires. The others were nearly bald."

I glanced at my truck. Yep, new tires. 

"Thanks. No one's ever done that for me before."

Reginald gave me a weird look and I shook my head. "Nothing."

He nodded and patted my shoulder. "I’ll be late for dinner. I’m heading down to Mason County. A security guard at the Grisham Mill got killed by some kind of animal."

I raised my eyebrows. "An animal?" 

"You’re not in Phoenix any more, honey. They’ve been hunting it for a week with no luck. Thought I’d lend a hand," Reginald said, getting into his police cruiser. 

"Be careful."

He nodded. "Always am."

**Author's Note:**

> https://mthg.org/get-involved/


End file.
